Page 88 of Beauty and the Mafia Boss

“Okay, I think we both need to sit down.” I take Rafaella by the hand and she lets herself be led to the dining room. I motion for her to sit in one of the chairs and sit next to the one she chooses. “Tell me.”

“I really drank too much and...”

“Were you drunk? Did he take advantage of you?” I interrupt to ask.

“No!” It's her turn to interrupt. “I wasn't drunk, and he didn't take advantage of me. He was annoyingly insistent, as always, and I just wasn't as determined to resist, as usual.” Rafa snorts and rests her elbows on the table before hiding her face in the palms of her hands. “I almost didn't drink, to tell the truth, but blaming it on the drink seemed much more dignified than admitting that I wanted to kiss Tizziano. Oh, I'm such an idiot!”

“Was it just a kiss?” I ask carefully and she takes her hands off her face to show me her wide eyes. I raise my hands in surrenderbefore she can speak. “Sorry! I just needed to be sure, you were the one who said he didn't just want that.”

“And he didn't want to, but I haven't completely lost my mind yet, Gabriella. Only half of it.” I laugh. “It's not funny!” She complains.

“Why is this such a big problem?”

“Because it was good! It was... it was absurdly good! I had no idea a kiss could be like that.”

“The other guys you've already kissed wouldn't be very flattered by that comment,” I say, and Rafaella turns her face away, making my eyes widen for the second time in less than ten minutes. “Rafaella!”

“Hmm!” She responds, still without looking at me.

“There were other guys, right?”

“No?” She looks at me again, and the expression on her face is a mix of insecurity and... regret?

“Do you regret kissing him?”

“Yes!” She responds immediately, but it only takes a few seconds for her to correct herself. “No?” Again, she gives the word the intonation of a question.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m not! I'm terrified of wanting to do this again!”

“Of wanting to do it or of not resisting the urge you are already feeling?”

“Since when did you become so perceptive?”

“Ouch!” I complain, putting my hand to my chest, pretending to be offended. Rafaella lowers her head against the tabletop.

“What am I going to do, Gabriella?” she asks me, turning her head and pressing her cheek against the wooden top. Her hair is tied up in a ponytail and her blue eyes stare at me, as if they truly believe I have the answer to that question.

“Do you want to swap?”

“What?”

“You figure out how I have to act, and I figure out what your next step is.”

“Sounds like a bad idea,” she replies.

“That sounds like us.”

“We should definitely adopt it” Rafaella confirms and, soon after, we both laugh. “At least we're funny,” she comments and shrugs, making me laugh more.

“Yes, it could be worse. We could be stupid and dull. It could definitely be a lot worse.”

CHAPTER 44

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Vittorio Cataneo

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